The Cat and the Wolf
by Ebonclaw
Summary: The story of the male Khajiit Dragonborn Iah who joins the Companions for one reason and one reason alone: Farkas. Slash, but nothing explicit. OC x Farkas


**A/N:** This is a collection of linear drabbles about my male Khajiit Dragonborn Iah, and Farkas. Slash, but nothing explicit. Contains spoilers for the entire Companions questline.

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><p>My eyes widened as I realized what it was. <em>A giant<em>.

I immediately picked up the pace, sprinting towards it even though I definitely didn't have neither the armor, weapons nor confidence required to kill a giant. Fortunately, it seemed it was already fighting something or someone else, and just as I managed to get close enough the giant dropped to its knees and then fell down on the ground with a thud.

The three people who fought it paused to catch their breath before they even seemed to realize there was a stranger among them. I barely got a chance to examine the giant – I had never seen one up close before – until one of the females approached me.

"Well, that's taken care of. No thanks to you." Her voice was harsh, unforgiving; she was definitely someone who had seen their fair share of blood. It took a moment for me to find my own voice.

"You didn't look like you needed any help."

"Hmph. You got that right," she said, and then simply turned around and walked away towards the nearby city, the other female following her close-by. I can't help but think they both look much too young and too weak to be warriors, even though I had the feeling that if I said that out loud they'd break my arm.

I didn't even realize the third one was still there until he spoke up.

"You look strong," he said, and I instantly snapped my head towards him. His voice was hoarse as well, but there was still warmth in it. Even though he looked big and muscular with tattered armor and wild hair, beneath the dirt and the dark war-paint in his face, his bright blue eyes gleamed with mischief. "Come to Jorrvaskr and be a Companion!"

I couldn't do anything but stare as he smirked ever so slightly, turned around and then followed his female companions up towards the city.

_The Companions…_

* * *

><p>As I stepped into the mead-hall Jorrvaskr the scent of ale, cooked beef, sweat and blood hit me along with the warmth. Moments later, the peace got disturbed by two of the Companions beginning to brawl for some unknown reason. One of them appeared to be a Dark Elf, and the other a Nord, and the people standing around them watching did nothing to prevent their fight. I assumed it was alright.<p>

On the far side of the hall I saw someone I recognized – the man who had fought the giant along with the two females. I walked up to him, careful to avoid the brawl, and the moment his eyes landed on me he nodded knowingly with a small smile.

"They're at it again. Welcome to the home of the Companions, friend; Jorrvaskr!" He grinned and raised his mug at me before taking a gulp. In the background I could hear what only could've been someone's nose breaking.

"… Who are the companions?" I asked after looking around for a brief moment. (And noticing the Dark Elf holding his hand over his face, blood streaming out from underneath.)

"I'm Farkas. The Companions are my family. We fight so that others don't have to."

Strangely enough, my first thought was that Farkas must've been lonely. Moments later, I saw another man looking suspiciously a lot like Farkas casting glances in our direction with curiosity in his eyes. I guessed they were related somehow. Farkas managed to catch my attention again by giving me a soft punch on the shoulder.

"Looking to join us, cat? Speak to Kodlak if you want to. We could use someone like you."

He nodded at me again, smiling slightly, but didn't say more than that. I didn't say anything either, just made a mental reminder to go speak to this Kodlak later. If joining the Companions meant being able to relax during the night in Jorrvaskr with Farkas and the others, I'd gladly do it right away.

* * *

><p>"I hope I didn't scare ya."<p>

I couldn't speak. The event that had just taken place in front of me had rendered me speechless. Not that I usually spoke a lot, but still.

Farkas had, upon being confronted with several enemies known as the Silver Hand transformed into a werewolf, slaughtered them all, and then transformed back again. It had been beautiful. Seeing his normally buff body grow to twice its size, his whole body suddenly covered in shining black fur, his eyes glistening yellow and his claws long and sharp, had stirred something inside of me I didn't knew I had. It was a much more primitive, bestial side that squirmed with glee as the blood of Farkas' enemies had splattered all over the floor, the walls and even me, where I stood helplessly trapped behind bars.

Once Farkas let me out I had to stop myself from reaching out to touch him, to see if his human form was nothing but a disguise that would fall away the moment it was ruined – that underneath it laid the beast that could tear apart its foes in mere seconds.

He seemed to notice my fascination and smirked at me, all while his eyes gleamed with that blue spark that I had started to associate with home, a feeling of safety, and too much mead.

* * *

><p>The highest-ranking Companions stood in a half-circle in front of me. Part of me was afraid – I didn't know what they were about to do. Were they going to kill me since I knew their secret? The thought of five werewolves ripping my body apart with their bare claws and teeth made my entire body freeze up – I couldn't have defended myself even if I wanted to. Shivers went down my spine, but they were hardly coming from fright; the mental image of the blood – <em>my <em>blood– splattering all over the courtyard sent my inner animal into a slightly inappropriate fit of delight.

"Brothers and sisters of the Circle, today we welcome a new soul into our mortal fold."

I didn't hear too much of the rest of what they said to me, the relief of it not being something threatening was enough for me to almost have a black-out. Or maybe it was because of the disappointment from my primitive side.

The only thing I noticed was Farkas standing up as my witness, promising to defend me and fight for me and be my shield-brother.

* * *

><p>There was one thing I loved more than anything else in life.<p>

Sitting in Jorrvaskr after a long day of traveling to Markarth and back, taking care of bandits, bears and a few brawls on the way. Of course you always ran into a few thieves as well, a giant or maybe even a dragon. And then you came back, reported to Kodlak and got your share of the gold, before collapsing near the great fire in the middle of the hall.

There was always someone who brought you mead, if there wasn't any right next to you already. There was always food on the plates, always ale in the tankards, always more stories to be told. There was always someone singing Ragnar the Red, and there was always someone telling them to shut up until it finally broke out into a friendly fistfight.

And when everyone had lost their consciousness due to the mead or shear tiredness and it was only me and Farkas left he would sit close to me, closer than anyone had ever done. I could feel the warmth emanating from his body along with the scent of nature – the scent of pine, cold dawns, snowflakes landing gently on fur, and blood.

And when he finally lowered his mug I could see his pale blue eyes looking over the edge, looking at me, and looking right into that inner animal of mine. Every time it happened I got shivers down my spine, and I wished, longed, that it would happen again.

* * *

><p>"Some people don't think I'm smart. Those people get my fist. But you, I like."<p>

* * *

><p>I loved being a werewolf.<p>

There was nothing that could compare to the rush of excitement that filled my body every time I changed.

I loved feeling the wind breeze through my fur as I ran at top speed, hearing the thuds every time my paws struck the ground and hearing the growls of the wolves that ran alongside me through the forests.

I loved the scent of blood every time my claws sunk deep into someone's soft flesh, my fists cracking their bones like twigs and my teeth ripping up their throats the moment they cried out for help.

But most of all I loved having someone next to me when being a werewolf – namely Farkas. We would transform together, howl together, run together and hunt together. We ran through the night side by side, urged on by the stars and the freezing cold air and the Aurora Borealis that spread across the sky like wildfire.

Afterwards, as the dawn approached, we would find a pond somewhere, transform back into our weak human bodies, and collapse in the chilling water. And I loved to see the water glisten on Farkas' bare skin as his chest heaved up and down with each breath he took.

* * *

><p>Farkas didn't speak to me after Kodlak died.<p>

None of them really did, but he mattered the most. When I came back to Jorrvaskr late that fateful day, the first thing I saw was not Kodlak laying there next to the fire, completely still, but Farkas sitting right next to him. His war-paint was smudged and his eyes were red – it looked like he actually had been crying.

Several times afterwards I had tried to talk to him, comfort him, but the few times he didn't simply say 'Leave me' he just turned his head away, not even willing to look at me.

I knew why they were acting like this as well. They blamed me. Hell, I blamed me.

I had aggravated the Silver Hand by attacking and killing too many of them, especially their leaders. And then, when the Companions and Kodlak himself had needed me the most, I had not been there. I had been too busy trying to please Kodlak by killing those witches, and the Silver Hand had taken the opportunity to attack Jorrvaskr.

Even though Aela, Farkas and Vilkas all asked me to meet them at Ysgramor's Tomb after Kodlak's burial, it took quite some time for me to gather enough strength to actually go there. For several days, I hid out in the wild, spending most of my time as a werewolf and sleeping with the wolves of a nearby cave I found. They didn't speak to me, didn't ask any questions and didn't require me to do anything. They just let me into their pack without any complications.

But as night fell and aurora borealis suddenly blossomed up all over the starry sky I couldn't help but miss the days when Farkas and I would wander around Jorrvaskr all day, giving each other looks and meaningful smirks – and when it finally became dark we ran out of Whiterun together, transformed as soon as we were sure no one saw us, and then simply ran. Running through the forests, plains and mountains with Farkas by my side was something I longed to experience again.

Eventually, I began my trip to Ysgramor's Tomb. I'd rather be close to Farkas and still have him hate me than be away from him for too long.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry."<p>

My eyes widened the moment I heard his voice, but I didn't dare to turn my head to face him. Instead I remained where I was, leaning against the waist-high walls outside of Jorrvaskr and looking out over the area around Whiterun.

"Aela told me what happened," Farkas continued from somewhere behind me. "How you slayed Kodlak's wolf spirit and allowed him to enter Sovngarde. If Kodlak believes in you, you truly are the new Harbinger of the Companions." He stepped forward, standing right next to me now, and I could see him in the corner of my eye even though I still didn't look directly at him. I didn't like that serious look of his.

I sighed.

"If you only consider me as your Harbinger because Kodlak said so –" I began, but was quickly interrupted.

"You think I would follow you and listen to your words of wisdom just because a ghost, even the ghost of Kodlak, told me to? I follow you because I've seen your strength in battle, I know how wise you are and because… I want to." I heard the fury in his voice, even though it faded somewhat towards the end, and I knew he spoke the truth. I couldn't help but grimace. "If you think I'm nothing more than a mindless mercenary doing what I'm told, then I –"

"No!" I blurted out, unable to stop myself. I turned my head to look at him, and saw the pain in his bright blue eyes. Even though his eyes were piercing me, looking right into my soul, I couldn't say anything more. Somehow I felt I didn't need to.

"… Will you do me a personal favor?" Farkas finally asked, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Anything," I replied, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

* * *

><p>Lydia smiled ever so slightly towards me, and then leaned forward to fasten the Amulet of Mara around my neck.<p>

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I couldn't believe she was persuading me into doing it, either. When I had come home after a long day at Jorrvaskr she had simply been standing there, holding out the amulet for me, telling me 'she knew'. Ever since I had asked her to stop calling me Thane she had become a lot friendlier, but this was still surprising.

I couldn't do anything but accept it, of course.

* * *

><p>"Farkas…"<p>

He must've heard there was something wrong in my voice, for he looked up, worry filling his blue eyes. He looked at me for a moment, before his gaze dropped to the amulet hanging around my neck in plain sight. A weary smile made its way onto his face, but his eyes seemed forlorn.

"An Amulet of Mara… You're looking for marriage, then?"

I couldn't reply. I couldn't even stand looking into his eyes, not when he had that expression on his face. Instead I lowered my head and closed my eyes, my emotions threatening to tear me apart.

I could hear him move, but still didn't look up. Then a gentle but slightly trembling hand just barely touched the side of my neck, making me draw in a startled breath and snap open my eyes. He was standing right in front of me, closer than ever before, but thanks to him being taller and my gaze being held low I couldn't see his face. However, as he moved even closer and his grip became more secure, I dared to raise my chin ever so slightly and saw through half-lidded eyes how the corners of his mouth were turned up into a tiny smile. Hope filled my chest once again.

And then he leaned closer and pressed his lips against my nose.

Interracial kissing had always been a bit awkward, but I didn't care. My entire body had spiraled into a state of pure bliss. All I dared to do was loosely place my hands on his hips, while he kissed the corner of my mouth and ran his fingers through my hair, scratching me behind my ear as if I was a cat. I couldn't deny it though; I loved it. Before I could stop myself, I started purring, which made Farkas chuckle, a dark sound that sent shivers down my spine.

"Interested in me, are you?" he murmured.

"I won't lie. I am," I admitted willingly.

Farkas moved back a bit and looked down, meeting my eyes. I looked up at him, my lips curving up into an unaccustomed smile as he grinned down at me, and I could see it in his eyes – neither one of us had ever been this happy.

* * *

><p>As I approached the bed, I finally hesitated. Farkas was already lying there, obviously fast asleep since I had come home late like many times before. The night was as always the safest time for werewolves.<p>

I was always a bit nervous when I came home late – I never knew how Farkas would react or if he'd even be there; sometimes we both spent the night in Jorrvaskr. I definitely didn't want to wake him up, but at the same time it would feel wrong to go to Jorrvaskr without him.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, which wasn't too hard for a Khajiit like me, I snuck in under the sheets as far away from Farkas as possible without falling off the edge of the bed. Just as I settled and thought I had made it, I heard him move around for a bit before a pair of arms wound themselves around my waist. Seconds later, Farkas pulled me closer and buried his nose into my fur.

"Something wrong?" he wondered, his voice low.

"No… no, I just didn't want to wake you up," I replied, my hand automatically running over the muscles of his back.

"I'd rather have you wake me up than sleep alone all night," Farkas murmured into my chest, and even though his voice was groggy with sleep his words warmed me from the inside out. I tightened my hold on him and he let out a sigh of contentment. "You smell like… pine… the first snowfall of the morning…"

"… and blood," I finished. I knew that smell.

"Yeah."

"… You don't miss it?" I finally couldn't help but ask. I had wanted to ask him many times before, ever since he first performed the ritual with me by his side actually. To me, there had been nothing that could compare to the strength and stamina of the beast blood, and I still couldn't understand why he had chosen to give it up. Maybe because I wasn't a true Nord.

"… Of course I do." His voice was low when he finally spoke. "You know I miss our nightly hunts more than anything. But the thought of not going to Sovngarde the day I die… I can't imagine it."

"… If I ever grow old, I will make sure I perform the ritual before my time comes."

"You would do that?" Farkas asked, genuine surprise coloring his voice. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at me. Thanks to my eyes I could see that even though he was shocked, he had an incredulous smile on his face.

"Of course I would."

His smile widened slightly, and he bent down to kiss me before settling next to and half on top of me again. His hands wandered freely over my chest, obviously delighting in stroking the softest patches of fur there, and I couldn't help but grin. Maybe that was why he had been attracted to me in the first place – because I reminded him of a werewolf.

And then I realized that I had become what he used to be for me. Someone to respect, admire and look up to. I used to be the weak human – or rather, Khajiit – and he had been the strong werewolf. Now, it was the other way around.

I had to protect him – I _wanted_ to protect him – and stay close to him forever. Hopefully, if I managed to perform the ritual before I died, I would be able to.


End file.
